


Bewitched Notes

by Mirkys_Concubine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Camping, Fae & Fairies, Forests, Forks Washington, Gen, Magic, Master of Death Harry Potter, Music, Musical Instruments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25564747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirkys_Concubine/pseuds/Mirkys_Concubine
Summary: A short tale of Harry finding solace in an instrument and traveling to a place where he plays not for himself but for magic and his soul.
Kudos: 79





	Bewitched Notes

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if it makes sense but it's mine.

**Bewitched Notes**

> _"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."_ Freidrich Nietzsche.

* * *

When you have nothing but time, you picked up the oddest quirks. As a child Harry could remember sitting in his cupboard and listening to _proper_ music. Classic with long notes from instruments he couldn't name but Aunt Petunia would sit in her favorite chair and knit as the record played. 

Those were calm moments when he fell into the magic of music. He didn't feel the bitter cold of winter or the humid heat of summer... Magic... Now as an adult Harry could say that the haze of warmth during those times had to do with his magic intermingling with the notes.

Years later with a bottle of fire whisky as his companion and the inability to get sloshed, Harry would return to his roots.

The pub had been quiet and the winter storm had kept the customers at a minimum - just himself and the older witch that polished glasses. She had put a record on and the heavy note of a piano struck a cord in him. 

A piano followed by instruments that had tears tracking down his still too young face and old eyes.

Music save him.

It dammed him.

Music picked apart the patched existence of a lost man and eventually with the passing of time Harry learned to truly heal as his fingers and heart learned to play.

Piano, chalumeau, the harp, drums, mandolin, euphonium, the list went on and on until he couldn't deny that the violin struck him in his very magic.

It was the string instrument that made the hair on his body raise and his soul strum telling him that yes, yes, he was still alive. 

Like all things when dealing with time Harry moved and moved. Never lingering longer than he had to before people's tongues wagged with concern and even fear about how he remained so young in a world that aged far faster than he breathed. 

Taking a much-needed break from humanity Harry trekked through forests and hitched through carefully drawn portals from runes. A feat he kept close to his heart.

The tent looked basic and patched here and there leaving an array of multi colored swatches of fabric - each telling a story - to a stranger it would look as if the young man with cropped messy hair, wire rimmed glasses, and shabby clothes was another homeless guy.

Only he never hunted.

He never moved in the direction of land just walked deeper and deeper into the woods with lingering touches on barks of trees or stones. He was quiet, he didn't hum or sigh, just walked and laid out in the sun. 

Forks Washington was an unusual place that catered to the normal and the unusual of humans. The wolves had scented him first and because they were curious and a tad bit uncertain they reached out to the vampires. 

Harry knew after a while that he was being watched. It was... Interesting. His magic told him that those watching him were shapeshifters and muggle vampires. He didn't care, not really, eventually he would but he had grown used to it over the years.

There was no _malicious_ feel just curiosity and eventually he learned of the /secret/ tribe of native american with the ability to shift and the almost nomadic clan of vegetarian vampires... Vegetarian... It sounded horrendous really but who was he to judge.

One would think that over time they would give up and see he was just a nobody, a simple guy living as simply as one could in the wilderness. Harry would build a fire by hand and enjoying the experience of creating something without magic. He would lean against a stump and watch the tendrils of flames jump and crackle, his magic enthralling the flames to dance and flare.

Soon it was time. 

The stars aligned, magic in the earth beneath his bare feet was thick enough he could _taste_ it, the moon felt close and lush in the sky, it was the equinox when certain variables were aligned and this place was drenched in possibility.

Harry wasn't sure if the wolves or vampires could feel it. It was dark and reminded him of bitter chocolate but in a good way. A way that made you crave more. Harry walked until he couldn't walk any further. Here. It was here that he would stand and play. 

The last time Harry had wandered this direction there was lush green but now circles dotted the ground. Freshly turned dirt encircled by blossoms of rich floral's that tickled his nose with its perfume of pollen. 

In one hand his violin materialized and in the other his favorite bow. Both a gift from the goblins, it was old and it gave him the same feeling as when he used the Elder Wand. 

Settling the violin against his chin Harry dragged the bow along the strings and fell back into himself as the magics of the night crept along his spine, latched onto his core, and took over the melody. 

Music was Magic.

It strum at the soul.

It could sooth broken spirits and mend shattered souls or in this case part the veil between one world and another. 

Dust rose from the ground, it sparkled and whirled heavy in the air, invisible no more creatures swayed and danced to the eery tune that caused stranger eyes to finally _see_.

Specs of light as small as a lightning bug, bipedal humanoid creatures as tall as a toddler but grown in appearance with far too long limbs and thin as a rake danced in the circles or crept beyond the borders to scale the tall trees, it was a rainbow of hair and shadows where there should be wings, but the blacked eyes of Harry was both breadth taking and scary.

A breeze floated through the air, it tickled at the nape of his neck and like a lovers caress wrapped around his body and nudged him to drag his feet. It was graceful and mystical in the way Harry played as his feet danced and his body moved in a way that looked effortless. His back arched and he bent at an awkward angle, a long note echoing through the space, a titter fills the air and the creatures are close.

Their spindly fingers grazed, their pointed toes hopped and skipped, the air grew heavy and dark, yet Harry remained as still as a statue, hair dangling and the fairy lights gathered to settle a crown atop his head. 

The long drawn out note faded and with it so did the pull of magic and with a blink of an eye it was all gone. 

The circles remained but The creatures were but a memory and Harry but a passing wonder before it too was gone.

What had happened?

Why were they there?

What... But... How...

**End**


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